Âme Empoisonnée
by Clawizzle
Summary: A dark force is rising, and there is no fire to save the Clan this time.
1. Murder

Disclaimer: I do not own Warriors.

Note: Only TC's allegiances will be listed, sorry.

_**Âme Empoisonnée**_

THUNDERCLAN

LEADER **BLUESTAR—**blue-gray she-cat, tinged with silver around her muzzle.

DEPUTY **REDTAIL—**small tortoiseshell tom with a distinctive ginger tail.

**apprentice, dustpaw**

MEDICINE CAT **SPOTTEDLEAF—**beautiful dark tortoiseshell she-cat with a distinctive dappled coat.

WARRIORS **LIONHEART—**magnificent golden tabby tom with thick fur like a lion's mane.

**apprentice, graypaw**

**TIGERCLAW—**big dark brown tabby tom with unusually long front claws.

**apprentice, ravenpaw**

**WHITESTORM—**big white tom.

**apprentice, sandpaw**

**DARKSTRIPE—**sleek black-and-gray tabby tom.

**LONGTAIL—**pale tabby tom with dark black stripes.

**RUNNINGWIND—**swift tabby tom.

**WILLOWPELT—**very pale gray she-cat with unusual blue eyes.

**MOUSEFUR—**small dusky brown she-cat.

APPRENTICES** DUSTPAW—**dark brown tabby tom.

**GRAYPAW—**long-haired solid gray tom.

**RAVENPAW—**small, skinny black tom with a tiny white dash on his chest, and white-tipped tail.

**SANDPAW—**pale ginger she-cat.

QUEENS **FROSTFUR—**beautiful white coat and blue eyes.

**BRINDLEFACE—**pretty tabby.

**GOLDENFLOWER—**pale ginger coat.

**SPECKLETAIL—**pale tabby, and the oldest nursery queen.

ELDERS **HALFTAIL—**big dark brown tabby tom with part of his tail missing.

**SMALLEAR—**gray tom with very small ears. The oldest tom in ThunderClan.

**PATCHPELT—**small black-and-white tom.

**ONE-EYE—**pale gray she-cat, the oldest cat in ThunderClan. Virtually blind and deaf.

**DAPPLETAIL—**once-pretty tortoiseshell she-cat with a lovely dappled coat.

----------------

The stars twinkled in the dark night sky. A soft wind blew across the moorland. Two figures padded through the tall grass below the broad sky.

"Evil is never far," one whispered. This one was leaning on the other's shoulder, dried blood splotching most of their flank. "Often it is too close." The cat made a strangled noise, and leaned more heavily on its companion.

"And this time is no different." The other cat, larger than the first, shook off the injured cat. The cat fell to the ground with a cry of anger and hurt. "You were a fool to believe that Tigerclaw ended your life, Brambleberry. I did everything. I planned the whole attack on RiverClan. I planned that idiot's death. I planned _your_ demise."

"That idiot," rasped Brambleberry, "is my leader!" She struggled to get up, but the other cat pinned her down with a large striped paw. Brambleberry hissed, her black fur bristling.

"Huh! Your leader. Some leader he is. And don't even try to get up, you weak excuse for a medicine cat." His voice was scornful. The huge tabby put a claw against her throat, now exposed to him. "I wish leaders only had one life. Then Crookedstar would've been out of the way a long time ago." He sighed wistfully.

"Mudfur will recognize your scent on my body," Brambleberry snarled. "So will Crookedstar. They'll attack your bloody stupid Clan and kill every one of your so-called warriors." The speckled she-cat's eyes glittered triumphantly.

The tom snorted. "Very likely." He drew his paw back, giving the RiverClan medicine cat a glimmer of hope for one second, before he brought it down again and pierced Brambleberry's throat, killing her.

The tabby looked around the moorland slowly. "Guess I better leave Brambleberry here, so it'll look like WindClan killed her." He shoved the body away with a hind paw, then strode confidently off toward the roaring sound of the Thunderpath. When he reached it, he paused for a second, glancing back at the great plain behind him.

"Right," he said, to the world in general. "Brokenstar's here, and he's going to _rule_ this damned place."


	2. Insanity

Disclaimer: I do not own Warriors.

Note: Chapter one's in Sandpaw's POV. Enjoy!

_**Âme Empoisonnée**_

"May all cats old enough to catch their own prey join here beneath the Highrock for a meeting!"

Bluestar was sitting on the Highrock as the sun set and the full moon rose. The different light patterns illuminated her fur in many ways. Most of her blue-gray coat looked purple in the bloody red light of the dying rays of the sun, giving her a very unnatural look.

"Tonight is the Gathering. Along with myself, Redtail, and Spottedleaf, the cats attending will be Dustpaw, Lionheart, Graypaw, Mousefur, and Speckletail. Willowpelt, take Ravenpaw and Runningwind on a border patrol. Whitestorm, get Sandpaw and Longtail and go hunting. Tigerclaw, you're in charge of camp until we return."

_I don't get to go, but Dustpaw and Graypaw do?_ Sandpaw thought resentfully. Dustpaw was only a half-moon older than she was, and Graypaw was the most idiotic cat in the world. She knew that Graypaw was a new apprentice—Lionheart had taken him on the tour around the territory just yesterday—so he had a right to go, but why did Dustpaw get to go with him?

While Sandpaw thought furious thoughts at Bluestar, Graypaw, and Dustpaw, the first of those three leapt off the Highrock and landed on the grassy ground with a small thud. Little clouds of dust came up around her legs. "We go immediately!" she shouted, flicking her tail in a beckoning way. The cats she had called joined her, and they set off.

"Come _on_, Sandpaw!" snapped Whitestorm a bit after they had left, striding over to her with his white-furred head held high and his big yellow eyes showing irritation. "I'm not going to call you again. Longtail's waiting for us!"

"You've been calling me?" asked Sandpaw absentmindedly. Her train of thought was still on the subject of resenting Bluestar, Graypaw, and Dustpaw.

Whitestorm hissed, exasperated. "Of course I have!" growled her mentor. "Let's _go_. We can't stand here all night." He bounded off toward Longtail, who was tapping his tail impatiently on the ground as Sandpaw lingered.

"At least you get your own mentor," Ravenpaw muttered beside her. "I've got to deal with Willowpelt and Runningwind. I only know them 'cause they're in my Clan!"

Sandpaw rolled her eyes. She knew that Ravenpaw would rather have to patrol with a bunch of ShadowClan cats than have to deal with Tigerclaw. She had just opened her mouth to say so when they heard a new voice.

"Ahem."

Sandpaw jumped. So did Ravenpaw. She recognized the voice, but it was less deep than Whitestorm's and much more angry. She whipped around. There, looming over her, was Tigerclaw himself.

"You're supposed to be hunting with Whitestorm and Longtail," he snarled. "And Willowpelt and Runningwind are waiting for Ravenpaw here. You're distracting him and wasting your mentor's time. Isn't that true?" Tigerclaw stared at her in a way that suggested he was trying to be intimidating. He succeeded.

"True," Sandpaw whispered meekly. Usually she was more defiant and headstrong, but she could feel the storm coming, and it was named Angry Tigerclaw.

"True. _Too_ true. Now go join your mentor, and work _extra_ hard to prove that you deserve the prey you'll catch. And you should go, too, Ravenpaw." The warrior's amber eyes glinted menacingly. "Or later you'll have to _beg_ for a bit of the tiny shrew that Sandpaw gets to eat."

_Tiny shrew?!_ Sandpaw had to bite her tongue to stop herself from screeching something horrible at the huge tabby. Her old self was back with a vengeance. Ravenpaw, meanwhile, had scurried off, and Willowpelt's patrol had left.

Not having anything better to do, she obediently loped over to join Whitestorm and Longtail. Both warriors glared at her with piercing eyes for what seemed like eons before Whitestorm finally said, "Thank you for joining us, Sandpaw. Now let's go."

It was the beginning of new-leaf; the frost had begun to disappear, the snow was starting to melt, and the forest was looking green again. Sandpaw tried to enjoy the experience, but Whitestorm and Longtail were murmuring to each other, shaking their heads, and looking back at her constantly, so she didn't appreciate the brisk air or the pretty scenery. She had a feeling they were talking about her, and when warriors did it, she hated it.

She concentrated on hunting, knowing that Tigerclaw _would_ have her go without food if she didn't perform well on this trip. Whitestorm would probably try to defend her, of course, but Tigerclaw could be very persuading at times. Sandpaw shuddered just to think of those wicked amber eyes.

She chose the wrong moment to think of them. Her shudder rustled the bushes slightly, and the mouse she had been stalking dashed away into the slightly green undergrowth. Sandpaw hissed in annoyance. She turned around and, to her horror, saw that Whitestorm was shaking his big white head in disapproval. Longtail, pompous as usual, just looked at her with a disdainful sneer planted on his face.

_Oh, StarClan, they saw that._ Why had they chosen _that_ moment to stare at her? Why had they chosen _that_ moment to turn around and give her some attention? Why had they chosen _that_ moment to watch her with every StarClan-forsaken eye they had? Why had they chosen _that_ moment to—

"Ambush! ShadowClan!" screeched a sudden voice, and a small black tom hurled himself into the clearing. He was out of breath, and his nose had a deep scratch in it like Tigerclaw's did. A trickle of blood flowed from the cut.

Longtail gasped. "Ravenpaw!" Sandpaw tilted her head to one side. The apprentice hadn't been very recognizable, but now that Longtail mentioned it, by StarClan, it _was_ Ravenpaw.

"Ravenpaw, what is it?" Whitestorm demanded. His voice was authoritative, but Sandpaw noticed the flicker of worry in his eyes.

"Brokenstar…he attacked Runningwind…Willowpelt's at camp…asking for help…she said to stay with Runningwind…but I knew you guys could help…" He gasped for breath and moaned; Sandpaw could see that he was on the verge of collapsing. "Help…please…"

"Calm down, Ravenpaw." Whitestorm stalked over to the young apprentice to help support him. "Did you leave Runningwind all alone?"

"Yes…but he…killed Brokenstar…"

"How many times?" Sandpaw demanded, wishing for nine but thinking it was probably only one or two. Whitestorm sighed, shaking his head. Apparently her curiosity was too much for him. _His loss!_

"Just…once…" Ravenpaw took some deep breaths, at Whitestorm's instruction. His sentences became more decipherable as he continued, "But he needs help. Brokenstar…he might wake up soon…" He looked pleadingly at Whitestorm. "You've got to help..."

"Yes, I know." Whitestorm glanced over his shoulder at Longtail and Sandpaw. "C'mon. Let's go help Runningwind. He's a good warrior, and maybe we can help him squeeze in a few more murders of Brokenstar. Where did you say it was, Ravenpaw?"

"I didn't…but…at Snakerocks!" His green eyes widened. "No! Runningwind…he'll get bitten! As long as he's fighting Brokenstar, he'll…he'll be blind!" He turned to Whitestorm, his voice pleading. "Come _now_!" He dashed off into the forest in the direction of Snakerocks. The three cats stared after him.

"Right," said Whitestorm, somehow still calm. "Follow me." He charged after the young cat with a sudden burst of speed. Longtail followed suit, quickly catching up with the senior warrior. Sandpaw stayed behind for a second, her heart pounding and her mind whirling. This day had transformed from boring to crazy, and she wasn't sure which adjective she liked more.

She took a deep breath and dashed after her Clanmates.


	3. Conflict

Disclaimer: I do not own Warriors.

Note: Chapter two's in Ravenpaw's POV. Enjoy!

_**Âme Empoisonnée**_

"You came!"

Runningwind was fighting Brokenstar desperately when the four cats arrived. His voice was weary and cracked, but his eyes were shining delightedly as Brokenstar rolled away from him.

"I heard you killed Brokenstar," Whitestorm replied. "Such ferocity is something ThunderClan needs in desperate times. Besides, you're my Clanmate. Even if you weren't a great fighter, I couldn't let you die."

"I killed him _twice_," Runningwind added proudly, clawing Brokenstar's muzzle as the large tabby tried to slash at the swift cat's back.

"Twice too many!" Brokenstar roared. "If I had my way, all of you would've died long before my father reigned—" His sentence was cut short when Longtail leapt on top of him and wrenched him away from Runningwind. The ShadowClan leader screeched in fury. "How dare you!"

Whitestorm hissed. "How dare _you_! You're ambushing us on our own territory and trying to rid the forest of our pure hearts!" Brokenstar snorted at that comment, but Whitestorm went on: "And on the night of the Gathering, no less! Peace should reign!"

"Say," Sandpaw broke in, "shouldn't you be at the Gathering?" Ravenpaw narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. Leaders usually _did_ attend Gatherings, and Brokenstar didn't physically look sick (he was, in the apprentice's view, sick in his head).

Clawface, the only other ShadowClan cat present, grunted scornfully. "No ShadowClan cat wants to waste their time hanging around with weak enemies. Blackfoot, Jaggedtooth, Yellowfang, and Boulder are attending, to inform the other Clans of this new prospect."

Whitestorm snarled at Clawface. "He's not going to Gatherings? He's not respecting StarClan's will? He's ignoring the warrior code? You're mad to follow him!" He rushed at the scarred tom, bowling him over. "Sandpaw! Ravenpaw! Attack!"

While Sandpaw headed over to her mentor and Clawface, Ravenpaw ran straight for Brokenstar. He didn't want to fight the larger cat, but if there were ever a chance to prove himself to Tigerclaw, this was it. He pounced on Brokenstar's back and began to tear at the striped fur in a frenzy. Brokenstar yowled and flipped over onto his back, nearly crushing the apprentice.

Longtail, who had been clawing at the enemy's side, joined Ravenpaw and helped him slip out from under the big leader. The two ThunderClan cats battered Brokenstar furiously. Brokenstar fought back, ruthlessy scratching and biting and flailing, but even he could not fight them off when Runningwind, whom Ravenpaw had suspected had been killed or gone back to camp for even more help, leapt on him in a surprise attack. The three cats tore at Brokenstar's soft underbelly.

Then Brokenstar did a very surprising thing. He groaned pitifully and went limp, apparently giving up. Runningwind and Ravenpaw stepped back, but, to Ravenpaw's astonishment, Longtail kept on fighting.

"What are you doing?" Runningwind cried, echoing Ravenpaw's thoughts. "Didn't Darkstripe teach you about not killing a cat who cannot defend themselves?" Ravenpaw shuddered at those words, imagining Tigerclaw looming over _him_ and trying to kill him.

"It's a trick," said the young warrior, tearing at the thick creamy fur below him. "He can defend himself just fine." But Ravenpaw noticed an uncertain glint in his eyes, as if he were saying that to convince himself as well as the others.

Longtail was proved right. Brokenstar, tired of his act (which didn't seem to be working anyway), reared up and struck Longtail in the shoulder with his sharp claws, narrowly missing his throat. Runningwind angrily leapt for the tabby, but Brokenstar was ready. He knocked him aside with a hard blow from his side, forcing all his strength into the push.

Ravenpaw stared, transfixed, at the approaching Brokenstar. _StarClan, help me!_ What if Brokenstar tried to kill him, as he almost certainly would? He'd only been an apprentice for two moons, he didn't know how to fend him off…well, he did, a little, but he'd never been great at fighting, heck, he'd never been great at training, StarClan knew how many times Tigerclaw had drilled _that_ into his head…

He didn't need to be very good at fighting, however. Just as Brokenstar was bunching his haunches in preparation for his leap, a huge tabby, larger than the ShadowClan leader, came crashing into the scene, knocking Brokenstar off his paws. His proud amber eyes glared defiantly at Clawface, who had turned around at the sound of Brokenstar's surprised yelp and was now suffering many scratches at the claws of Whitestorm and Sandpaw.

Then the new tabby unsheathed his huge, knife-like claws and sliced Brokenstar's throat.


	4. Tension

Disclaimer: I do not own Warriors.

Note: Gah. This took me forever to write, but it's not very long...ah, well. Enjoy Dustpaw & the Gathering!

_**Âme Empoisonnée**_

"Where's Brokenstar?" Crookedstar demanded from the Great Rock. "We can't go on without him." Dustpaw, along with his mentor, looked doubtfully at the RiverClan leader. _Yes, we can. He's a cruel dictator who doesn't give a mousetail about StarClan, the warrior code, or any of us. I bet he only comes to Gatherings to gain information._

"Ahem!" shouted a voice. The cats of all three Clans made way for the large cat coming toward them, but it was no tabby. He was a huge white tom, with jet-black paws.

"You're not Brokenstar!" Oakheart hissed. The cats of RiverClan and ThunderClan started to bristle at this comment. They didn't like Brokenstar, but they didn't like strangers, either.

Tallstar snorted. "Don't you recognize Blackfoot, you idiots?" Noticing that only Jaggedtooth, Yellowfang, and Boulder were following Blackfoot, he narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "Why so few cats? Is Brokenstar dead? Did you lose a battle?"

If cats could laugh or grin, then Blackfoot would've laughed or grinned, and he would've done so mirthlessly, but he had to settle for just a contemptuous sneer. "On the contrary! Brokenstar is sick, and has forbidden ShadowClan to attend Gatherings. I brought my medicine cat and an escort here to tell you this. We will stay for the rest of the Gathering, but this will be our last."

"Preposterous," muttered Redtail beside Dustpaw. "Absolutely _preposterous_!" Dustpaw didn't say anything, but he agreed. Even though it was no surprise to him, Brokenstar _needed_ to attend Gatherings, or at least he needed to try, and besides, why should they let Blackfoot stay if he didn't believe he should? That would be practically _giving_ them information.

"Why doesn't Brokenstar attend Gatherings anymore?" Bluestar demanded. She had risen to her feet, and was staring at Blackfoot with cold, authoritative blue eyes. "Does Brokenstar hold a grudge against StarClan themselves?"

"Brokenstar has no quarrel with StarClan." Blackfoot's orange eyes were cold. "He does not think that his time should be _wasted_ listening to how many new kits were born in the Clans of antagonistic fools." He, Jaggedtooth, and Boulder looked the three leaders straight in the eye proudly. Yellowfang narrowed her eyes angrily—Dustpaw was glad to see that at least _one_ ShadowClan cat supported Gatherings—but she did not protest.

"He says we are _fools_?!" cried Tallstar, furious. "Tell him I say _he_ is a fool!"

"Calm yourself, Tallstar—" Barkface began, his expression revealing that he was angry but more worried, but Deadfoot cut him off explosively.

"He has no good reason to calm himself! Brokenstar has _insulted_ us, and he is too full of cowardice to do it directly!" The warrior's voice projected across the clearing; it seemed so loud that Dustpaw bet One-eye could hear it back at camp.

"Tallstar." Bluestar's voice was steady but commanding. "I understand your anger, but Gatherings are times of peace. Control your warriors."

"Who are you to tell me what to do?" Tallstar demanded. "I think that Brokenstar should be punished, not only for insulting all of us, but for ignoring StarClan's will and defying the warrior code! Why, just this moon, he took three of WindClan's kits!" A gasp rose from the crowd. Dustpaw could see Graypaw gaping at Tallstar, but he wasn't so shocked. He'd seen Brokenstar before; the ShadowClan leader looked perfectly capable of such an act.

"Why do you care if Brokenstar hates you?" Bluestar asked, her face mildly worried. Three of Frostfur's kits had disappeared half a moon ago, and even though a fox seemed to be the thief, Tallstar had just brought up a new possibility that seemed even worse. "I bet you all hate _him_, too."

Tallstar bristled. "He _insulted_ us and _stole our kits_, the damned fiend! I hope they catch the green-cough that's left over from leaf-bare so Brokenstar will run bloody well out of warriors before we're done with destroying that so-called Clan of his!"

Crookedstar, however, placed a paw between Tallstar and Bluestar. "Everyone calm down," he ordered. "We will not get anywhere if you keep arguing like this. Tallstar, you're right, Brokenstar is pretty much pure evil." Blackfoot hissed at that. "He took one of my lives, slaughtered my medicine cat, and blamed it on your Clan."

Tallstar's eyes widened, and his fur stood even more erect than ever. "The nerve!"

"Just like I said," Crookedstar meowed, "you're right. But Bluestar is right, too. The Great Rock is not a battlefield."

Tallstar snorted. "Blackfoot's not on the Great Rock, so I can do battle with _him_." Crookedstar gave him a warning glance, keeping him quiet for the time being, but Dustpaw could tell that the argument was far from over. He was angry, too; he hoped he would become a warrior soon, not just so he could escape the tyranny of training with that stupid furball Graypaw, but also because then he could fight ShadowClan and maybe take one of Brokenstar's lives away. That'd show _them_ not to mess with ThunderClan.

Blackfoot joined the leaders on the Great Rock, and called for attention. "_Cats of all Clans!_ Listen to your four _representatives_"—he stressed the word, causing Redtail to roll his eyes and grunt something to Lionheart that a Dustpaw couldn't hear—"share their Clans' news!"

"He's not a leader," whispered Lionheart to Redtail, in a tone that sounded agreeing to Dustpaw. "Why does he get to call the Gathering to order?"

Bluestar went first. She stepped up to the front of the Great Rock, head held high. "This moon, we have gained a new apprentice," she announced. "Graypaw, mentored my Lionheart, is here tonight. He is already showing the signs of a fine warrior."

Dustpaw grunted, though not audibly. Graypaw was such an idiot. A comedian, but an idiot. Even Lionheart stared at his apprentice, whose head was lifted proudly, with a look of slight disdain. Bluestar cleared her throat among the cheers and mews of congratulations from the other Clans (even Yellowfang pitched in) and went on, "But we have also suffered. A fox has stolen Frostfur's kits." Dustpaw glanced up at Lionheart, who was Frostfur's mate. His eyes were clouded with sorrow. Dustpaw himself was frustrated; one of those kits might've been his future apprentice.

"A fox," Tallstar said scornfully. "Huh. You _really_ believe a fox stole your kits?"

"The geography of our territory protects our camp better than yours does," Bluestar replied evenly, though Dustpaw could see a flicker of doubt on her expression. "It would be a challenge for Brokenstar to steal any kits from us, and frankly, I think he's either too busy or too lazy to be challenged."

_Oh yeah!_ Bluestar had told Tallstar off, and Blackfoot too, all in just two sentences! _Of course a fox stole the kits,_ Dustpaw thought, unsuccessfully trying to convince himself. _Brokenstar will never get through _us_!_

Tallstar didn't recognize the situation as Dustpaw did, but he did nod slowly (and reluctantly) at Bluestar's words. "I suppose foxes _do_ come along once in a while…"

"I'll speak next, if Tallstar and Bluestar have quite finished?" Crookedstar looked very impatient. Dustpaw would've liked to think angry thoughts at him, as he hated RiverClan, but he couldn't help agreeing with him. Tallstar and Bluestar had done nothing but argue this Gathering, either with Blackfoot or with each other, and the apprentice was sick of it. _Let's get on with it! StarClan, you'd think leaders would be the cats telling everyone _not _to argue, but no, they're the cats you have to _stop_ from arguing._

Tallstar and Bluestar nodded. Crookedstar stepped up to the front of the rock. "In early leaf-bare, Brokenstar requested that we share our hunting grounds with him. Since the river was frozen and we were forced to hunt on land, giving us less food than usual, it was hard for me to accept his plea. But I granted him permission, because his kits needed food. But since ShadowClan's land is getting less barren now—"

"How do you know that?" cried Jaggedtooth indignantly. Yellowfang hissed at him.

"It's new-leaf," Crookedstar replied, "and with new leaves comes new prey. Since you won't starve on that bleak territory of yours anymore, I am taking away from you the privilege of hunting on our land."

Blackfoot opened his mouth to protest, but Crookedstar silenced him with a glare. "Blackfoot, I understand that you don't like this. But it is still my turn to share news. I am pleased to announce that my daughter has earned her warrior name at last. She sat vigil a few nights ago, and has joined us tonight." He gestured with his muzzle toward a slim silver tabby. Many cats cheered for her, more than cheered for Graypaw, which made Dustpaw feel better. RiverClan cats weren't great, but anything to lower Graypaw's ego was okay by him.

Blackfoot and Tallstar shared their news. It was boring. All Blackfoot had to say was that he wanted hunting rights on RiverClan's territory back again and that some kits were born. Dustpaw was of the opinion that they were stolen, but he didn't say it aloud for obvious reasons. Tallstar just said that Brokenstar had stolen his kits and that some apprentices had been made. Whoop-dee-do.

Finally the Gathering was over, and Bluestar said good-bye to the other three leaders and leapt off the Great Rock. Dustpaw followed right after Redtail, who was right behind the ThunderClan leader, while Lionheart and Graypaw took the rear (Dustpaw was elated when Lionheart told his apprentice to join him at the back of the moving crowd).

But Dustpaw was even more elated when they had completely left the clearing, because he knew that Sandpaw and Ravenpaw were gonna love hearing about _this_ Gathering.


	5. Tranquility

Disclaimer: I do not own Warriors.

Note: Meet Graypaw, Bumbling Idiot above all Bumbling Idiots. xD

_**Âme Empoisonnée**_

The camp was dead silent when the Gathering-goers entered it. Graypaw couldn't see Bluestar's expression, as she was at the front of the patrol and he was at the back with his mentor, but he could her a worried tone in her voice as she called out, "Tigerclaw? Darkstripe? Hello? Are the patrols back yet?"

"Bluestar!" Frostfur came running from the nursery, her white fur sticking up with fear. "Willowpelt came back to camp and got Tigerclaw and Darkstripe! She ran into Brokenstar and Clawface by the Thunderpath!"

"Brokenstar?" Bluestar snarled. "Blackfoot said he was sick! We must go and help them eradicate that weasel of a leader. Redtail, Dustpaw, Lionheart, Mousefur! You four come with me. Everyone else, _stay here_. Do not hunt. Do not try to follow us. Just stay here and everything will go smoothly."

"Um, Bluestar?" Frostfur's blue eyes had a tentative glint in them. "It's only two cats. I think they're fine without _any_ help."

"I do not abandon my warriors!" Bluestar snapped. "But if you think my time is being wasted, then I will stay here. But Redtail and the rest shall go!"

Graypaw, meanwhile, was staring at his leader, anger burning in his big yellow eyes. _I have to stay here? My first battle and I can't even fight in it?_ Lionheart must've seen the expression on his face, because he rested his thick-furred golden tail-tip on the apprentice's shoulder.

"You don't know how to fight, Graypaw," Lionheart reminded him gently. "You were made an apprentice only two days ago." He withdrew his tail and bounded toward Redtail, Dustpaw, and Mousefur, who had grouped together by the entrance to the tunnel.

"Good luck," Speckletail called. "We'll be waiting!"

"Waiting for who?" asked a familiar voice, with more curiosity than correct grammar (though, being a cat, the voice's owner didn't care about correct grammar anyway). Many cats whipped around to stare at the rustling undergrowth. Many cats jumped. Many cats looked very relieved because they recognized the voice.

A large brown-striped head poked out through the plants. "Waiting for who?" the head asked again, pulling its whole body out into the open.

"Waiting for the patrol we were going to send to help you," Bluestar replied. "Did you drive Brokenstar off, Tigerclaw?"

Graypaw's eyes narrowed. _Let's hope Tigerclaw _killed_ him. We don't need thugs like him roaming the forest. Especially not _our_ forest._

"Yes." Tigerclaw flicked his tail, as if to beckon some cats behind him. Willowpelt, Darkstripe, Runningwind, Whitestorm, Longtail, Ravenpaw, and Sandpaw emerged from the undergrowth. "And we took three of his lives." Graypaw's large eyes shone delightedly. _Wow! Three?_

"Three?" Bluestar looked half-impressed and half-worried. "Don't you think that's going a bit too far, Tigerclaw? I don't like Brokenstar any more than you do, but killing him three times might make him hate us even more."

Runningwind stepped forward to support Tigerclaw. "Don't blame him, Bluestar. He only killed Brokenstar once, and it was to save Ravenpaw." Graypaw noticed a sheepish expression on Ravenpaw's face. "I killed him the other two times. I guess my anger blinded me."

Tigerclaw's face became slightly distorted, and Graypaw wondered if he were feeling envious of Runningwind's accomplishment, but the great warrior's expression soon changed to one of relief that he wouldn't have to face Bluestar.

"Very well." Bluestar dipped her head to the two warriors in recognition of their deeds and apologies. "But from now on, remember our chief principle. I should hope you can all recall it from your various apprenticeships?"

Redtail shouted out the principle—"We enter battle to win, but not to kill!"—and soon the rest of the Clan joined in, Graypaw included. Lionheart had taught him this yesterday when they had gone on a tour of the territory. Graypaw liked the principle, and he hoped the other Clans followed it (or at least RiverClan and WindClan); he couldn't stand the thought of being killed.

The grey-blue leader nodded approvingly. "Good. My senior warriors, please see my in my den. We have matters to discuss." Redtail, Tigerclaw, and Whitestorm followed her into her den; Graypaw watched the ginger tip of the ThunderClan deputy's tail disappear, wistfully thinking about what it would be like to be a senior warrior.

"Tomorrow at sun-high," Lionheart whispered to Graypaw as he hurried to join the other senior warriors. "Hunting practice with Redtail and Dustpaw." _Dustpaw?!_ Dustpaw was one of the rudest cats in the Clan; Graypaw was sure that Darkstripe or Longtail had taught him his manners. After all, the tabby apprentice _did_ hang around with them a lot.

"Darkstripe!" called a sudden voice, jerking Graypaw out of his resentful thoughts about Dustpaw. He looked up to see Spottedleaf hurrying toward the grey tabby. Graypaw hadn't seen her leave the Gathering patrol, but she was coming from the medicine den, so apparently she had sneaked away at some point.

"I thought I told you not to leave camp with that scratch of yours!" the dappled medicine cat went on. Darkstripe had a nasty scratch on one of his legs from a recent battle with RiverClan over Sunningrocks. Graypaw thought he deserved it, and that Spottedleaf shouldn't fuss over it, but he supposed that nice medicine cats would be nice medicine cats.

Darkstripe looked doubtfully at the nice medicine cat in question. "It's fine," he said. "It didn't hurt at all out there. Can't I go back to warrior duties now?" Graypaw let out a soft _mrrow_ of laughter at the pleading tone in the warrior's voice. Darkstripe, one of the toughest cats in the Clan, practically _begging_ permission from one of the most soft-hearted cats in the Clan.

"Instead of sitting around like that," meowed someone behind him, interrupting his thoughts, "you could try being useful."

Graypaw whirled around, irritated at what he saw. There, his dark tabby tail curled over his paws, sat Dustpaw, looking as lofty and cold-hearted as ever. "You!" the gray tom hissed. "Why can't you just leave me alone? Anyway, what could I do? I don't know how to hunt, and no one will want me for a patrol while Lionheart's talking to Bluestar."

Dustpaw flashed him an arrogant smirk. Graypaw resisted the urge to wipe it right off his face with a swipe of his heavily-furred paw paw.

"Smallear and the lot want new bedding," the older apprentice told him. "But Ravenpaw's taking the dawn patrol, with Runningwind and Longtail, so they need to go to sleep early. And Willowpelt's taking me and Sandpaw hunting in a few minutes, so we can't do it, either. You're our last hope."

Graypaw groaned inwardly. _Cleaning out the elders' bedding!_ If he'd known he had to do this, he wouldn't have been so excited to be made an apprentice. He hadn't done it yet, but he knew it wasn't fun, from the other apprentices' constant ranting and raving.

Dustpaw's smirk grew more mischievous. "Ah, lighten up, you blundering mouse-brain. The elders usually have a story to spare. _If_ you do a good job and bring them some extra prey." He gave Graypaw a mock-friendly shove. "Now get going, and maybe Smallear won't snap at you for being late!" A cruel tone entered his voice on the last few words.

Grumbling to himself, Graypaw headed to the elders' den. _I'd better just get this over with._


	6. Panic

Disclaimer: I do not own Warriors.

Note: Da plot thickenz.

_**Âme Empoisonnée**_

Sandpaw followed Willowpelt and Dustpaw into the camp, a squirrel and a sparrow hanging from her jaws. The fresh-kill pile was getting bigger now that leaf-bare was history, and this made the atmosphere in the clearing more cheerful than before. Sandpaw had almost even forgotten about Brokenstar's attack earlier that night.

"May all cats old enough to catch their own prey join here beneath the Highrock for a meeting!"

The call startled Sandpaw, causing her sparrow to slip from her mouth. Her green eyes grew wide when she saw a decidedly tortoiseshell cat on the Highrock. And the voice was not Bluestar's. _What in the name of StarClan is Redtail doing up on the Highrock?_ A metaphorical icy claw gripped her stomach for a second as she wondered if Bluestar were dead.

_But she can't be dead! She was just talking with her senior warriors when we left! She didn't go on patrol, did she?_ The apprentice snatched up her sparrow and hurried over to the fresh-kill pile, where Dustpaw was waiting for her. Her whiskers drooped when she spotted Willowpelt with Runningwind; she had wanted to ask the warrior where Bluestar was.

"Does anyone know where Bluestar is?" Redtail asked, irritating Sandpaw slightly. There was no explanation or introduction. Just a question. _Did he call this meeting together just to ask a bloody _question_?!_

"I think I know," Lionheart called out, rising and padding a few steps toward the Highrock. "She spoke to me and Whitestorm about going hunting alone for a while after dismissing you and Tigerclaw to organize the duties." A shaft of moonlight gradually began to illuminate his golden fur, giving it a silvery look, as if he were a StarClan warrior. In that light, Sandpaw could see from his posture and the half of his face that was turned toward her that he was weary and stressed.

Redtail's hackles rose, and Sandpaw noticed a tired tone to his voice when he spoke. "And you let her?" he asked, a hint of a snarl in his voice. Sandpaw understood his anger; Brokenstar was on the loose, and no cat was safe alone. And Bluestar was one of the most valued cats in ThunderClan.

"No." Lionheart took a few more steps forward, his head held high despite his exhaustion. "We insisted that she take two or three warriors with her. She objected strongly, saying that she would not waste her warriors' time. We shot back with a question about her want to die. She shot back with a question about _our_ want to waste our time. It went on like this for a while. In the end, we agreed on a one-cat escort. Whitestorm went with her. Has any cat seen Whitestorm lately?"

A chill went down Sandpaw's back as she realized that she hadn't seen Whitestorm since they returned from battling Brokenstar. _What if he's dead, too? What if Brokenstar attacked them both?_

"…should get some sleep," Redtail was saying when she withdrew herself from her thoughts. "The dawn patrol will wait until sun-high. If Bluestar and Whitestorm aren't back by the time the patrol leaves, then Lionheart and Dustpaw will come with me to look for Bluestar. Tigerclaw, you and Willowpelt will train Graypaw and Sandpaw." The ginger-tailed deputy took a deep breath. "Spottedleaf, how is Darkstripe?"

Someone in the medicine den—probably Darkstripe—emitted an impatient yowl. Spottedleaf came hurrying out of her den. "Not well enough to go on patrol, but well enough to be a night sentry, if that's what you're looking for."

"That's right." Redtail curtly dipped his head to the dappled she-cat. "He shouldn't be too exhausted; he did no actual fighting and was not allowed to perform any duties. Tell him that he must stand guard for tonight. If he sees anyone, he is to inform Graypaw, who in turn will tell me. The entrance to camp must be guarded for every instant up to sun-high. Tell him that, if he performs well, he can start his duties again the day after tomorrow."

"I'm not sure he's well enough for that," Spottedleaf replied. "And you know not to argue with a medicine cat, Redtail." Sandpaw wanted to claw Spottedleaf's ears off for that remark. _If Bluestar's dead, Redtail will lead ThunderClan, not you!_

To her satisfaction, Redtail hissed at the other tortoiseshell. "I'm afraid I don't know that, Spottedleaf. If he performs well, he'll be rewarded. Would you rather have it so that a good warrior is punished for his performance? I might not be leader of this Clan, but I _am_ deputy, and you are not either one."

Spottedleaf glared at him furiously before retreating back into the depths of the medicine den. Conversation flew from the den for a while; then it came to a sudden halt. Darkstripe emerged, looking irritable but pleased with himself.

"Right, then." Redtail jumped down from the Highrock and hit the ground with a thud. "Everyone get some sleep. Darkstripe, stand guard. Graypaw, stand outside the warriors' den. Runningwind, Longtail, Ravenpaw—get some extra sleep tonight." He padded slowly over to the warriors' den, his paws almost being dragged. The ThunderClan deputy slipped into the den, nodding at the other warriors to follow suit.

Sandpaw shuffled to the apprentices' den, where Ravenpaw was already sleeping. The ginger tabby found her nest and curled up into a tight ball, hoping that her leader and her mentor would both return safely, that Brokenstar wouldn't attack the camp during the night, and that her warrior ceremony would be soon.

Life is hard, but hope can go a long way.


	7. Discovery

Disclaimer: I do not own Warriors.

Review Response: Painted Inkblot [& everyone else] -- Yeah, I know that they wouldn't use 'damned'/'damn'. I'll try to refrain from using it in the future, but...there are only so many times you can say foxdung before you either lose your appetite or get bonked on the head by annoyed reviewers. xD

As for why Spottedleaf didn't get the prophecy...good question. ^^ I think the main reason is that Rusty wasn't really born in this story. So no fire to do anything to anyone.

_**Âme Empoisonnée**_

"Oh, no."

Runningwind had stopped dead, and was staring at something in the middle of a small, dark clearing. Ravenpaw tried to peer over Longtail's shoulder, who was smaller and had stopped right behind the oldest of the three.

"Oh, no," Runningwind echoed, his tabby fur rising gradually. "This can't be. It _can't_. Can you believe it, Longtail? Ravenpaw? It's impossible. StarClan would never let anyone do this."

"I might believe it," Ravenpaw retorted, "if I could _see_ it."

Longtail laid his striped tail on the black cat's shoulder in a futile effort to comfort him. Ravenpaw shook the tail off. "It's Whitestorm's body, Ravenpaw," Longtail whispered solemnly. "It's torn to shreds. See for yourself if you dare."

As Longtail retreated to where Ravenpaw had stood, the apprentice stepped up to Longtail's former position. His green eyes widened, half in surprise and half in horror. The scene before him was a gruesome one.

A white-furred cat head and neck lay in the farthest part of the clearing from them. Next to it was a paw, and half of a tail. Two legs and another paw lay more toward the center of the area. Closest to them was a leg, two paws, three thirds of a leg, and the other part of the tail.

Longtail had told Ravenpaw who it was, but Ravenpaw couldn't stop himself from focusing his gaze on the head. The features were, to his horror, recognizable. The cat was indeed Whitestorm. And Whitestorm was indeed dead. In pieces. Strewn across the forest floor.

"What'll we tell Bluestar?" Longtail asked Runningwind, his voice shaking. Whitestorm was the son of Snowfur, Bluestar's sister, so the two cats were rather close.

"I bet we won't have to tell her anything," the brown tabby murmured. "I bet she has suffered the same fate. I bet she's in just as many pieces as Whitestorm."

Ravenpaw inched toward the two warriors. "_I_ bet," he offered, "that Brokenstar's behind all this." When it was clear that he had their attention, he went on. "A fox would've eaten him, and a badger wouldn't have killed him this way. Brokenstar is the only cat capable of this."

Longtail dug his claws into the ground. "If I ever get my paws on that heap of fox-dung…"

Runningwind's eyes were narrowed, half-angrily and half-thoughtfully. "You're right, Ravenpaw. Brokenstar must be the murderer." He paused, his head tilted to one side. "Why is he trying to kill us off? I know he doesn't like us, but ShadowClan never did this before."

"ShadowClan didn't have Brokenstar before," Longtail growled. "What will that cursed rat do next? Take Redtail and Lionheart and Tigerclaw away from us? Take _Spottedleaf_ away from us, StarClan forbid? And if Bluestar's alive, will he kill her, too?"

"Yes." Runningwind looked sadly at Longtail. "Brokenstar is a tyrant. He will kill every last ThunderClan cat just to prove his point."

Ravenpaw's eyes narrowed to slits, and he nudged Runningwind. "He has a point? Doesn't he just have a severe case of insanity?"

The black apprentice heard a faint _mrrow_ of laughter coming from the warrior's throat, but the seriousness of the situation forced it to die rapidly. Runningwind sighed, and then meowed, "He has both. His point is…I'm not sure, but I know he has one."

Longtail snorted; Ravenpaw had almost forgotten how skeptical the pale tabby could be. "He's just doing it for fun. Or maybe because he can. Not because he's trying to prove a point." Ravenpaw nodded enthusiastically. This made more sense.

Runningwind shrugged. "You don't have to believe me. Come on, let's bury him." He started kicking dirt over Whitestorm's remains. Longtail joined in, but Ravenpaw stayed back, a question forming on the tip of his tongue.

"I'll tell Redtail, shall I?" he asked softly. He didn't want to be the one to do it, but one more second spent looking at Whitestorm and he feared he'd go as insane as Brokenstar.

Runningwind looked up. "You do that. Don't get yourself killed. This won't take very long—we'll catch up with you in a minute."

"Right." Ravenpaw dashed away, his white-tipped dark tail waving like a banner behind him. _Thank goodness I'm out of there. Whitestorm was beginning to scare me._

He ducked underneath brambles and thorns, and pushed his way through crumbling bracken and sprouting ferns. At one point his right front paw hit an unseen tree root, and he went flying over it, eyes wide and mouth almost screeching in surprise.

He spent a few minutes catching a squirrel and a thrush, and by the time he got back to camp Runningwind and Longtail had caught up with him. All three cats' whiskers were drooping.

Redtail was approaching them, shaking his head sadly. "Why did I let him go off alone? Why?" He looked up suddenly, golden eyes misty but focused on them. "I have bad news. We searched for Bluestar, and Lionheart went off to look by himself. Dustpaw and I found her—in pieces. Then we found Lionheart, in the same condition as her."

The two warriors closed their eyes, and Ravenpaw emitted a strangled sound. "Three cats dead!" Then, realizing what he had said, he opened his mouth to add something about Whitestorm's unfortunate fate.

Longtail beat him to it, partially because his catch fell out of his open mouth. "I'm sorry, Redtail, but Whitestorm's dead, too. His remains were scattered all over a small clearing. Runningwind and I buried him. On a side note, Ravenpaw caught some fresh-kill for the Clan. It could be put to very good use."

"True." Redtail's eyes were dark and hollow now. He motioned with his muzzle for the three cats to leave him. Ravenpaw snatched up his squirrel and nodded at Runningwind, who gingerly picked up the sparrow. They padded to the fresh-kill pile together as Longtail slipped into the warriors' den.

Laying the red-furred creature on the heap, Ravenpaw turned around and saw Redtail walking dejectedly toward the leaders' den, bright ginger tail dragging on the ground.


End file.
